I whimper, as blood starts to drip.
Why are they doing this?
How could they just stand there and watch?
Tracker sees me and snaps his head to the door. “Inside, Lana. Now.”
I listen to him. I know from his tone he isn’t fucking around. I step back into the door, bumping into a tired-looking Faye and a confused-looking Anna.
“Why is Arrow beating the shit out of Blade?” she gasps. “What the fuck happened?”
I have no answers.
Faye grabs our arms and pulls us into the kitchen.
“Sit,” she commands. “We’ll wait until they come inside.”
Sin walks in first. Scans the room, then pulls his wife by his side. “We need to talk.”
Clearly.
“We set up cameras in here. We saw Blade going into Vinnie’s bathroom, staring at where Allie’s body was found. He was mumbling shit over and over, how sorry he was.”
“What the fuck?” Faye gasps. “Blade?”
Sin explains what happened. Apparently Blade and Allie were sleeping together. He said he loved her. When he saw her on the back of one of the Kings of Hell members’ bikes, he lost it. Allie had snuck into the clubhouse to get something. She and Blade got into it. He hit her over the head and tried to frame Vinnie, by leaving her on his bathroom floor. Apparently back in the day, Vinnie had a small thing for Allie, so it might have looked suspicious if the men didn’t trust Vinnie and Vinnie was with them at the time of Allie’s death. Blade had locked the door and closed it, locking her in from the outside.
We all listen with wide eyes and shocked expressions.
“What’s going to happen to him?” I ask, trying to process everything.
“We’re handling it,” Sin grunts. “You all stay out of it, you hear me?”
I swallow.
Blade?
How many times did he drive me around, keep me company, or have a laugh with me?
Countless times.
Surely they wouldn’t . . . kill him, would they?
Anna is blinking profusely, as if trying to sort out her thoughts. I look at Faye, whose eyes are on her husband.
I don’t like this.
I hear yelling from outside.
I block it out.
I go back into our room and bury myself under the covers. I slide my earbuds in, letting the music soothe, trying to push out the vision of Blade, someone I trusted, being punished for his crimes.
* * *
I wake up held in strong arms.
Tracker pulls my earbuds out and turns me to look at him. “Sin said he told you everything.”
I nod. “What happened to him?”
He cringes. “Babe—”
“Shit, Tracker.” I breathe. “He really killed her?”
He nods. “He confessed.”
“Everyone trusted him,” I say quietly.
“I know,” he replies, a look of devastation flashing through his eyes. “I trusted him to protect you, over and over again. He also said he was with Allie when she beat you inside your house. He was there, Lana. I’ll never forgive that, ever. And he paid for what he did, or in your case, didn’t do.”
Betrayal spreads through my veins.
He watched her beat me? From behind? Sneaking up on me so I had no way to defend myself?
Shit.
“It’s all over now,” he whispers.
I swallow. “I guess you’re right.”
“Tough with prospects,” he admits. “Never know who they really are until they’re tested. Won’t be leaving you with one again. Only full-fledged members.”
“Tracker—”
“You’re keeping it together well, baby, proud of you. You know we set cameras up in here and left you guys alone; I felt like we were using you as bait. Fuckin’ hated it; didn’t sleep a wink last night. Only thing that kept me sane was that Talon was close by if need be, and Sin was watching the live footage.” He pauses. “Sad part was Blade looked . . . gutted over Allie. He went into that bathroom and cried. He killed her, then fuckin’ cried about it.”
He swallows hard, trying to salvage some control.
“Must have been hard to watch.”
“It was. He must have been a bit unstable to do that. Or maybe he thought there would be no ramifications. The fact that he tried to pin it on Vinnie, a brother, shows he has no loyalty.”
“Did you know Blade and Allie were sleeping together?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No clue. She must have been sneaking around with him when I got with you. I don’t know how she got him to come with her when she broke into your house. The two of them together . . . two psychos.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“I was just thinking about you, Lana. Knew Faye would have your back. She stayed up all night walking around the house, keeping an eye on everyone.”
“Faye knew, but we didn’t?” I ask, feeling a little hurt over it. “What if something else had happened? Wouldn’t it have been better if we knew what to expect?”
Tracker’s eyes soften. “Knew Faye would look after you. Didn’t want to worry you. Sometimes you need to trust my decisions, all right? I always have you in my mind. First priority.”
“I do trust you.”
“Good. Now give me those lips,” he demands.
I kiss his lips softy and gently.
* * *
I’m doing something I never thought I’d be doing.
Having dinner with my mom and dad.
Together.
It’s weird, yet nice.
“How’s school going?” my dad asks.
“Good,” I reply. “Between school and writing, I’m keeping busy.”
“And Tracker,” my mom adds, eyes filled with mirth. “When will the two of you be getting married?”
I almost choke on my mouthful of wine. “Not just yet.”
“Guess I’ll be waiting awhile to be a grandmother then,” she sulks.
Dad, on the other hand, looks relieved but stays quiet.
“So you were good friends with the old president?” I ask him.
He nods. “Yes, Jim and I were really close. He was a good man.”
“Sin is a good club president.”
Dad nods. “Yes, he is.”
“Where is Tracker tonight?” Mom asks, sipping her drink.
“He had some club business to attend to,” I say. “He’ll be back later to pick me up.”
We talk all night. It’s nice, but it makes me wonder, What if ? What if my dad chose to stay with us instead of his career?
At the end of the day, I guess it doesn’t really matter.
I’m living in the now, and life is good.
THIRTY-FOUR
DO I have to do this?” Tracker growls. “Do you know how much shit I’m going to get for it?”
I do know, but I don’t care. He said he’d do it, and now he has to.
“We’re here, you may as well just get it done with. Plus, you look fucking sexy right now.”
“Christ, woman, the things I do for you,” he says with a defeated sigh. “This right here proves my love for you. I wouldn’t do this shit for anyone else.”
“I know,” I tell him. “And I appreciate it.”
“You better,” he scowls, fiddling with the hat on his head.
I bite my lip, trying not to grin at his predicament. He is so uncomfortable. Tracker knows he’s good-looking, but I know doing something like this isn’t really him. He uses his charm to get women, but I don’t actually think he’s vain. He’s just confident, and this really isn’t his style. Still, I can’t help but admire him. His ripped body, his tattoos, the V of his hips, he is phenomenal. Don’t get me started on his six-pack, because I could write a whole book on how amazing it is.
“You’re the one who chased away Wyatt, now you can fill his shoes,” I say, gesturing for the photographer to continue with the photo shoot. “We only need a few more shots. Please, Tracker.”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t even return my call when I needed him for another cover.”
“Good, he’s smarter than he looks.”
“Well then stop complaining,” I say, trying not to laugh.
Tracker rubs the back of his neck, then does as he’s told, following the photographer’s orders. My new book is a cowboy romance, so Tracker is bare-chested with a cowboy hat, jeans, and chaps, along with the boots to match.
He looks fucking sexy.
His blond hair is down, hitting his shoulders in slight waves, the stubble on his face thicker than usual.
Delicious.
Women will buy my book for this cover alone.
He flexes his muscles, then changes position to rub one hand down his abs. I’m getting turned on by just looking at him, and I can’t wait to bring him to bed after this, still dressed in this outfit.
I still can’t believe that he’s mine.
All mine.
Holding his hat with one hand, he slips his thumb into his belt loop, flashing me a dirty look before turning seductive for the camera.
The camera loves him.
And so do I.
He continues to pose, throwing me looks in between, letting me know he isn’t happy but is doing this for me. I’d normally have Wyatt with a female model for my covers but I wasn’t going to watch some model slide up to Tracker, so he’s going to be on there solo.
The cover is going to be ab-licious.
We wrap up the photo shoot and he comes straight for me. “I think I look better as a biker than a cowboy.”
“I think you look good as anything,” I say, running my hand down his chest.
He glances down at me knowingly. “You’re wet for me as a cowboy, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am, you look . . . wow. Tracker you look sexy. Hotter than any male cover model I’ve ever seen.”
“Wyatt included?” he asks dryly.
“Million times better than Wyatt,” I tell him, licking my bottom lip seductively. “In fact . . .” I continue, “I really want to save a horse right now.”
“What?” he asks, frowning.
“I want to save a horse by riding a cowboy.”
His lips twitch. “Baby, if you wanna fuck me, just say so.”
We don’t make it home.
I ride him in the car, bouncing up and down on him until we both come so hard we almost pass out.
When we do get home, all the brothers are standing out front, waiting to give Tracker shit. The whistles and catcalls start.
“Now I’m gonna have to kick all their asses in the ring to prove a point,” Tracker grumbles, but winks at me playfully.
“Holy mother of shit!” Faye yells when she sees him. Fanning herself she walks up to him. “Hello there, cowboy!”
Sin grabs her, throws her over his shoulder, and leaves the room.
“It’s not my fault he’s so hot!” she calls out, earning her a smack on her ass. “Ouch! That hurt.”
“See,” I tell Tracker. “It’s not just me.”
He glances around, seeing Anna and Jess staring at him too, along with the random women Rake is with.
“Is this how it feels to be a woman? Seen as a piece of meat?” he asks, a contemplative look on his face. “I don’t know how I feel about it.”
“Next cover you can be a sexy highlander in a kilt,” I announce, almost swooning at just the thought of it.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters.
“Or a Viking. You totally look like one.”
“Lana.”
“Yes?”
“You’re lucky you’re beautiful, because you’re a pain in the ass.”
* * *
I get ready for bed, brushing Evie and letting her outside, before bringing her back in to sleep. After she’s sorted, I have a long shower and dress in my pajamas. I’m just getting into bed when I hear Tracker come home, the front door unlocking and then relocking.
“Chapter ten,” Tracker says, walking into our room with my book in his hand.
“What about it?” I asked. “And hello to you too.”
He smiles sheepishly, leans down and brushes a quick kiss on my mouth. “Hey, baby.”
“Hi. Now, what about chapter ten?” I ask. “And weren’t you at Rift? What the hell are you doing carrying my book around with you everywhere you go?”
“I want to do it to you. Right now,” he says, narrowing his eyes on the page. “Sounds hot. And I started it and couldn’t stop, so I’ve been taking it around with me.”
Sweetest biker in the world.
Curious, I peer over the page, seeing what scene he is talking about.
“You would,” I mutter, taking off my glasses and putting them on our side table. Tracker officially moved in with me last week, although we still spend a lot of our time at the clubhouse. It’s nice having our own space; much more private. Tracker admitted that he loved this apartment, he only said he didn’t because at the time he wanted me to move into the clubhouse with him, which I kind of figured out anyway.
“You wrote a threesome scene.”
“I did,” I reply slowly.
“Does that mean that’s on your bucket list? Because I don’t think I’d handle that very well,” he admits. “Well I’d handle a third woman better than a third guy.” He pauses. “I’d probably kill the guy.”
I throw my pillow at him. “Nice try.”
He chuckles. “Hey, you’re the one writing these scenes. It’s putting ideas in my already dirty head.”
“Just because I write them doesn’t mean I want to reenact all of them. Sometimes it’s hot to just fantasize.”
“Hmmmm. I’m gonna write my own sex scene,” he says, rubbing his chin. He grabs my laptop and starts to type. Curious, I can’t help but watch him.
She waits for me in bed, naked, legs spread. Her pussy is glistening, and my mouth waters, wanting to taste her.
No, devour her.
Possession runs through my veins. She is mine. I’ll kill anyone who tries to take her from me.
“Tracker,” she whispers, flashing me a seductive smile.
“Been waiting for me, have you?” I ask, starting to undress myself while unable to take my eyes from her body.
How did I get so lucky? With the blood on my hands, with the things I’ve done. The way I’ve treated women in the past. Used them. But Lana, she is mine. She is loyal as fuck, smart as hell, and only has eyes for me.
“Always,” she replies. “Wet at just the thought of you being inside me, so hurry.”
I smile down at her, all teeth. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you? Demanding. You should know that it’s me who makes the rules here.”
She clamps her thighs together. She enjoys being controlled; I know it and I use it against her.
Now undressed, I stroke my cock and watch her, making her squirm just a little while longer. Lowering to my knees, I spread her creamy thighs and bury my face in her without a word.
She tastes like honey, sweet.
A scent that’s all mine and no other man will ever know.
“That’s actually pretty damn hot, Tracker,” I say, feeling impressed. “Sexy biker writer. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Get my woman to have a threesome?” he jokes. I giggle and pull my laptop away from him and sit on his lap in its place.
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” he says, expression softening as he scans my face. “You’ve ruined me for other women, just like you said you would. You’re my end.”
Sweeter words were never spoken.
EPILOGUE
TWO YEARS LATER
YOUR boobs are huge,” I tell a very pregnant Anna. Her IVF treatment had worked, and she is expecting her first bundle of joy. “How many hands do you think it will take to cover one? I think like four of mine.”
She grins. “Two male hands.”
“Yeah, if th
e hands belonged to Hagrid,” I say, referring to the Harry Potter character. “Or some other giant male creature.”
She laughs, her whole body shaking. “Two of Arrow’s works fine.”
“What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be at home relaxing?” I ask her, gesturing to the bar around us. It was an early night at Rift, people are hanging out, not all drunk just yet.
“Couldn’t miss this,” she murmurs.
Miss what?
“Have you decided on a baby name?” I ask.
She rubs her protruding stomach. “If it’s a girl, I want to call her Alana.”
“What?” I whisper.
She smiles. “Didn’t want two Lanas, so I thought Alana would work.”
“Anna—”
“Don’t get all soft on me, Lana,” she replies. “These hormones are pissing me the fuck off. I cry for everything.”
“Suck it up, Anna,” I say in a hard voice. “See. All you need is some tough love.”
She laughs at that. “You and tough love? Don’t mix.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t underestimate me, bitch.”
She looks up. “I know you better than that, don’t worry.”
Tracker comes up behind me and nuzzles my neck from behind. “There you are.”
I smile at his presence.
Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud” starts to play and I smile wider.
I freaking love this song!
I’ve never even heard them play a slow song at Rift before.
“This song is for Lana,” the man says into the microphone, causing me to gasp.
Tracker’s hands tighten their grip on my waist as he spins me around and kisses me. When he pulls away, he reaches into his pocket and pulls the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen out of a black velvet box.
“Marry me,” he whispers into my ear. “Make me the happiest man in the world.”
“Of course I’ll marry you!” I yell, putting my hand out. He slides the huge diamond onto my fourth finger, and stares down at it in approval. It fits perfectly.
“It’s beautiful, Tracker,” I tell him. “I love it.”
“I love you, Lana,” he says, kissing my lips. “And I’m keeping you.”
He rests his forehead against mine. “Can we go home and fuck now? I need to be inside you.”
I smirk at the romantic moment being over. “I’m sure there’s an empty room somewhere around here. . . .”
Tracker's End Page 23
